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."I'll give you a shout in themorning as we go by, and see if you've made up your mind."Simon shook hands with the Professor, and watched them until they turned thecorner by the Petit Casino.His blue eyes were set in a lambent glint, likepolished sapphires.He had got what he wanted.He had made actual contact withKurt Vogel, talked with him, touched him physically and experienced thecold-blooded fighting presence of the man, crossed swords with him in abreathless finesse of nerves that was sharper than any bludgeoning battle.Hehad gained more than that.He had re-ceived a gratuitous invitation to callagain.Which meant that he was as good as on the prize list.Or in the coffin.3A highly conclusive and illuminating deduction, reflected the Saint grimly.And then all the old reckless humour flickered back into his eyes, and helighted another cigarette and ordered himself a second drink.So be it.AsLoretta Page had said, there were no dividends in guessing.In the fullness oftime all uncer-tainty would doubtless be removed one way or the other.Andwhen that happened, Simon Templar proposed to be among those present.Meanwhile he had something else to think about.A man came filtering throughthe tables on the terrace with a sheaf of English and American papers fannedOut in his hand.Simon bought an Express, and he had only turned the firstpage when a single-column headline caught his eye.TO SALVECHALFONT CASTLE £5,000,000 Expedition Fits Out A SHIP will leave Falmouth early in August with a contract for the greatesttreasure-hunt ever attempted in British waters.She is the Restorer, crack steamer of the Liverpool & Glasgow SalvageAssociation Simon skimmed through the story with narrowing eyes.So that was it! If KurtVogel was cruising in the vicinity of the Channel Islands on active business,and not merely on a holiday, the Chalfont Castle was his most obvious target.And it seemed likely otherwise why not take Professor Yule and his bathystoldown to some place like Madeira, where there was really deep water close athand for any number of experiments? The Chal-font Castle could not wait.If anauthorised expedition was being organised so quickly, there was not much timefor a free-lance to step in and forestall it.Perhaps the underwriters, taughtby past experience, had thought of that.But for a man of Vogel's nerve theremight still be a chance.Simon Templar lunched at the Gallic, and enjoyed his meal.The sting of theencounter from which he had just emerged had driven out every trace of therather exasperated lassitude which had struck him an hour or two before; thisprovidential hint of new movement swept new inspiration in like a sea breeze.The spice of certain danger laced his wine and sparkled through his veins.Hisbrain was functioning like an awakened machine, turn-ing over the urgencies ofthe moment with smooth and effortless ease.When he had finished, he went out into the main foyer and collected aPage 22 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlreception clerk."You have a telephone?""Oui, m'sieu.A gauche ""No, thanks," said the Saint."This isn't local I want to talk to England.Letme have a private room.I'll pay for it."Ten minutes later he was settled comfortably in an armchair with his feet on apolished walnut table."Hullo, Peter." The object of his first call was located after the Londonexchange had tried three other possible numbers which he gave them."This isyour Uncle Simon.Listen didn't you tell me that you once had a respectablefamily?""It still is respectable," Peter Quentin's voice answered indig-nantly."I'mthe only one who's had anything to do with you."Simon grinned gently and slid a cigarette out of the package in front of him."Do any of them know anything about Lloyd's?""I've got a sort of cousin, or something, who works there," said Peter, aftera pause for reflection."That's great.Well, I want you to go and dig out this sort of cousin, orsomething, and stage a reunion.Be nice to him re-mind him of the old familytree and find out something for me about the Chalfont Castle.""Like a shot, old boy.But are you sure you don't want an estate agent?""No, I don't want an estate agent, you fathead.It's a wreck, not a ruin.Shesank somewhere near Alderney about the begin-ning of March.I want you to findout exactly where she went down.They're sure to have a record at Lloyd's.Geta chart from Potter's, in the Minories, and get the exact spot marked.Andsend it to me at the Poste Restante, St Peter Port, Guernsey to-night.Nameof Tombs.Or get a bearing and wire it.But get something.All clear?""Clear as mud." There was a suspicious hiatus at the other end of the line."But if this means you're on the warpath again ""If I want you, I'll let you know, Peter," said the Saint con-tentedly, andrang off.That was that [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]
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."I'll give you a shout in themorning as we go by, and see if you've made up your mind."Simon shook hands with the Professor, and watched them until they turned thecorner by the Petit Casino.His blue eyes were set in a lambent glint, likepolished sapphires.He had got what he wanted.He had made actual contact withKurt Vogel, talked with him, touched him physically and experienced thecold-blooded fighting presence of the man, crossed swords with him in abreathless finesse of nerves that was sharper than any bludgeoning battle.Hehad gained more than that.He had re-ceived a gratuitous invitation to callagain.Which meant that he was as good as on the prize list.Or in the coffin.3A highly conclusive and illuminating deduction, reflected the Saint grimly.And then all the old reckless humour flickered back into his eyes, and helighted another cigarette and ordered himself a second drink.So be it.AsLoretta Page had said, there were no dividends in guessing.In the fullness oftime all uncer-tainty would doubtless be removed one way or the other.Andwhen that happened, Simon Templar proposed to be among those present.Meanwhile he had something else to think about.A man came filtering throughthe tables on the terrace with a sheaf of English and American papers fannedOut in his hand.Simon bought an Express, and he had only turned the firstpage when a single-column headline caught his eye.TO SALVECHALFONT CASTLE £5,000,000 Expedition Fits Out A SHIP will leave Falmouth early in August with a contract for the greatesttreasure-hunt ever attempted in British waters.She is the Restorer, crack steamer of the Liverpool & Glasgow SalvageAssociation Simon skimmed through the story with narrowing eyes.So that was it! If KurtVogel was cruising in the vicinity of the Channel Islands on active business,and not merely on a holiday, the Chalfont Castle was his most obvious target.And it seemed likely otherwise why not take Professor Yule and his bathystoldown to some place like Madeira, where there was really deep water close athand for any number of experiments? The Chal-font Castle could not wait.If anauthorised expedition was being organised so quickly, there was not much timefor a free-lance to step in and forestall it.Perhaps the underwriters, taughtby past experience, had thought of that.But for a man of Vogel's nerve theremight still be a chance.Simon Templar lunched at the Gallic, and enjoyed his meal.The sting of theencounter from which he had just emerged had driven out every trace of therather exasperated lassitude which had struck him an hour or two before; thisprovidential hint of new movement swept new inspiration in like a sea breeze.The spice of certain danger laced his wine and sparkled through his veins.Hisbrain was functioning like an awakened machine, turn-ing over the urgencies ofthe moment with smooth and effortless ease.When he had finished, he went out into the main foyer and collected aPage 22 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlreception clerk."You have a telephone?""Oui, m'sieu.A gauche ""No, thanks," said the Saint."This isn't local I want to talk to England.Letme have a private room.I'll pay for it."Ten minutes later he was settled comfortably in an armchair with his feet on apolished walnut table."Hullo, Peter." The object of his first call was located after the Londonexchange had tried three other possible numbers which he gave them."This isyour Uncle Simon.Listen didn't you tell me that you once had a respectablefamily?""It still is respectable," Peter Quentin's voice answered indig-nantly."I'mthe only one who's had anything to do with you."Simon grinned gently and slid a cigarette out of the package in front of him."Do any of them know anything about Lloyd's?""I've got a sort of cousin, or something, who works there," said Peter, aftera pause for reflection."That's great.Well, I want you to go and dig out this sort of cousin, orsomething, and stage a reunion.Be nice to him re-mind him of the old familytree and find out something for me about the Chalfont Castle.""Like a shot, old boy.But are you sure you don't want an estate agent?""No, I don't want an estate agent, you fathead.It's a wreck, not a ruin.Shesank somewhere near Alderney about the begin-ning of March.I want you to findout exactly where she went down.They're sure to have a record at Lloyd's.Geta chart from Potter's, in the Minories, and get the exact spot marked.Andsend it to me at the Poste Restante, St Peter Port, Guernsey to-night.Nameof Tombs.Or get a bearing and wire it.But get something.All clear?""Clear as mud." There was a suspicious hiatus at the other end of the line."But if this means you're on the warpath again ""If I want you, I'll let you know, Peter," said the Saint con-tentedly, andrang off.That was that [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]